On Paying Attention

I remember the moment clearly. A few weeks ago, after an already hectic day, I took my kids to the playground and started calculating the remaining day’s schedule in my head:

“It’s 4:22. I’ll let them play until 4:40 and then start the countdown. We’ll start getting in the car at 4:45, and leave by 4:50. I’ll drive home and arrive at 5:00, scoop up the cat for her vet appointment with some snacks for the kids, be at the vet’s parking lot by 5:10 and unloaded at at her door by our appointment time of 5:15.”

The timing worked perfectly. We were on time. I dropped by the house, called my cat’s name and she came running. I threw some treats in her carrier and picked her up and placed her inside. We were back on the road in moments.

My 16-year-old cat was so agitated at the vet they couldn’t get her out of the carrier for an exam. After explaining her symptoms, the vet gently told me that with her age and symptoms she was most likely experiencing organ failure.

The decision was made. We said goodbye. I couldn’t even give her one last cuddle because she wouldn’t let anyone near her cage. I tried to get the kids to say goodbye too but the could hardly get the words out with the hissing. My cat had always been difficult and feisty, even to the end– though somehow I hadn’t expected the end to be this way.

I knew this day would come. But when I first put her in the carrier, I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t realize that would be the last time I’d hold her. I called, she came, and I was the cause of her fate. It was the right choice, there was no doubt– but for days I could not forgive myself for not attempting that last snuggle, that last words of quiet goodbye, that last meal of tuna she loved so much.

I few days later I was scrubbing dishes when I glanced up and saw the pinkest sunset.

I managed to snap a photo before it totally slipped away. Had I looked up 30 seconds later, I would have missed the glorious pink sky.

Life is busy. Lately, the small moments that matter most sometimes escape me.

On the Sunday after Thanksgiving, we loaded up the cars and headed down to Longwood Gardens. If you haven’t been to visit a Longwood Christmas yet, it’s truly magical. However, with two preschoolers and two of my parents to keep track of, it’s easy to focus on logistics instead of the small things. It took me a few minutes to even realize what I was looking at in the main conservatory:

APPLES. Those are apples. 18, 540 to be exact. I almost missed it.

As we rushed through the Christmas tour in the conservatory, we stopped for a quick moment in the rose room so my mom could rest on a bench. We’d been bombarded by gorgeous vistas, displays, pathways, and more– it was almost overwhelming. I turned to my left, and there it was– a 6-foot tree made entirely of pinecones. It hit me: how many details like this have I missed? How many pinecone trees? How many apples?! Obviously I can’t stop to smell each rose (and pinecone, and apple…) but probably I need to slow down and just BREATHE once in awhile.

We hosted my entire immediate family the week of Thanksgiving. Our home was full. My heart was bursting. I barely picked up a camera, or the laptop, or my phone. Focusing felt wonderful.

The lesson I learned was the need to pay more attention. Instead of calculating our schedule down to the minute, I should have been sliding down the slide. I should give cat snuggles no matter what. I need to watch the sunset while doing dishes. And instead of rushing through Christmas preparations, I need to slow down and enjoy them. Watch the glow of my kids’ faces in the Christmas lights instead of trying to make sure each strand is perfectly placed.

I’m paying more attention this season. Listening to whispers instead of shouts. Ignoring the flashes in front of my eyes and opting for the small sparkles.

It’s the sparkles that make life glorious.

No more counting minutes, because truthfully, there will never be enough of them.

What message is speaking to you right now? Anyone else trying to pay more attention this week, this month, this year?

Meet Carrie Higgins

Dreamer, thinker, + lemon squeezer; you'll usually find me clutching a mug of coffee, glue gun, fandeck of paint colors, and a child at any given time. This mom of two (and wife to one) loves to share freshly squeezed ideas for home and family. Join the adventure as we learn most lemons can indeed become lemonade-- with generous amounts of sweetness, perspective, and love.

Comments

oh carrie i am so sorry. as you know we said goodbye to our dog the day after thanksgiving. it’s never easy, but something about loss this time of year os so much harder- why couldn’t we have had just christmas, then said goodbye? my heart hurts for you.

Well said, my friend….this time of year is SO HECTIC, but I am trying to slow down and enjoy. This blog post is a great reminder to do so. As my Dove Chocolate Promise Wrapper said (which is now on my frig as a reminder!), “It’s OK to slow down.” 🙂

Thanks for the gentle reminder NOT to get caught up in the season… rather, take time to enjoy it and the little things that present themselves each and every day. And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m getting away from the computer, closing down the Toy Story dvd and grabbing that 2.5 yr. old and playing castle. Yes, I have a list as long as my arm that needs attending to but it will still be there when Cinderella is put away…

This is a beautiful post that extends to many aspects of life. My daughter is currently weaning and every time she nurses I now try to look into her eyes and soak in the moment. I’m never sure which moment will be our very last. It’s been such a very special relationship–I’m sad to see it go but also excited about what’s in store for us next.

Dear Carrie, I am so sorry about your kitty. 16 years is a long time. Thank you for reminding me to slow down and really focus on what is important. This time of year can be crazy and often, when it is all said and done, I look back and wish I had paid more attention to all of the little things you mentioned.

This is a beautifully written post, Carrie. I’m so deeply sorry about the loss of your cat. Thank you so much for sharing this powerful reminder to us all to slow down and soak it in right in that very moment you are in.
((((hugs)))))

What a great reminder…sometimes when I am looking at my phone or computer in the rare instance that my kids are playing nicely, then I put it down because even though I have a spare moment, I’d rather soak in whatever they are doing, their voices, and their little-ness…. You’re right, there will never be enough minutes.

Be here now. Hubby recently got that tatoo, and it took on a lot of meaning when he lost a friend 2 weeks ago. As for me, I did writing experiment some years back, where a friend told me “just be in the moment, observe and much later, write.” I wrote a beautiful poem about my mom, who had Alzheimers and was starting on her journey of dementia. It touched someone I read it to. Best thing you can do, be in the moment now, you’ll never know when it’s gone forever.

Carrie, this is beautiful. I am so sorry to hear about your cat. So grateful to you for writing this because it is something that I too have been struggling with. Today, on our snow day, I tried hard to think only about that joy that my kids have because they are off of school and how these “snow days” are some of the most favorite as children. I had to really focus on playing and not working on the house or anything else. Man, is that hard! BUT SO worth it! 🙂

Tearing up, Carrie. The words and the photos are so beautiful. Ironically, today I wrote a post about my word for the year ahead, and I want to focus only on what serves me and my family, because I am missing too many moments for that which is unnecessary.

I know exactly how you feel and I try to remind myself of situations like this every time my dog does something that irritates me. No regrets! I also need to slow down and enjoy the holidays more. Thank you for posting! I read your blog most days of the week!

Carrie,
I think the next movement will be the Pay Attention movement. SO sorry about your cat. Mine was similar. I thought he was choking on something and brought him to the vet, it was heart failure. I didn’t think I’d say goodbye that day but his ever present heart murmur went into overdrive. I felt I hadn’t paid him too much attention since my daughter was born. Glad you are paying attention now. I’m trying to do that in my life as well.
Estelle

Hugs! I still remember losing my feisty cat, aptly named Atila. He only loved 2 individuals, me and his cat friend. Because he was so fluffy and I was in the midst of lots of little people in the house, I missed his losing weight and slow decline. I still miss him.

Thank you for writing this. I’m in the middle of writing a post about creating memories in our kids when I saw this come up.

Cleaning out emails–you see I am very timely in this, ha ha–I finally read your post regarding moments.
Amen and amen and amen. The dishes will wait–look at the sunset. The mess will wait while you snuggle with the baby, or linger with your husband, or make special note of the way the toddler’s needing-to-be-cut hair curls in the back….or whatever. We have all been there and done that. But since I’ve been a parent for more years than you are alive (gulp), I know all too well from experience it is easy to get busy and forget to live. Yes, stop and breathe and live.
Thanks for the encouragement to your readers.

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Comment

Name *

Email *

Website

Hey there, welcome! I'm Carrie-- a dreamer, overthinker, + lemon squeezer, making it my mission to share fresh ideas for home and family. You'll usually find me clutching a mug of coffee, glue gun, fandeck of paint colors, and a child at any given time. Join the adventure as we learn most lemons can indeed become lemonade-- with generous amounts of sweetness, perspective, and love.